Finding Family
by preachersgal
Summary: ATF Au - When a young girl arrives in Denver claiming to be Buck Wilmington's daughter, how will the ATF Agent deal with a past choice coming back to haunt him?


_Author's note: I've been seeing ads for "Life Unexpected" and while the show has not aired yet (at least on the west coast!), it's just gotten me inspired to start a Buck fic!_

_**Finding Family – Part 1**_

ATF AU

[Buck/OFC's]

Joanna Davis nervously looked up at the Denver Federal Office Building. A large structure that felt imposing to the 16-year-old. But heck, she'd come this far. Wasn't the time to chicken out now.

She set her shoulders and marched up to the glass doors and into the wide entrance. There were notices posted all around stating that one must check in at the security desk before proceeding into the building's interior.

Joanna walked up to the security desk.

"Can I help you?" An older man asked.

"Yes. I'm looking for Buck Wilmington. He's an ATF agent," Joanna replied.

The man raised an eyebrow and nudged his companion. "She's looking for Wilmington."

The second security guard laughed. "A little young, aren't you?"

Joanna furrowed her brows, brown eyes confused. "I want to see him."

"Who are you?" The first guard asked. "Got some ID?"

"Yes," Joanna replied, pulling her driver's license from her purse and handing it over.

Taking her license the guard made a notation in his log book. "He expecting you?"

"No."

"Okay. We need to search your bags and you have to walk through the metal detector first."

~*~

Joanna was directed to the elevators and up to the eleventh floor. Upon leaving the elevator yet another reception desk loomed.

The woman who occupied this desk gave her much the same look as the guards on the first floor had. She was told the Agent Wilmington was at lunch and would return shortly.

Joanna set down her suitcase and took a seat in the reception area, prepared to wait. Clutching her purse tightly, she watched the elevator doors.

~*~

"I'm telling you, Buck," JD Dunne said as the elevator rose from the first floor of the Denver Federal Building, "you are so gonna lose that bet."

"Aw, what are you talking about, JD," Buck Wilmington laughed. "If anyone knows football it's me and when I say the teams goin' all the way this year, you can depend on that."

"We'll see," JD smirked. "Got a long way to go till the Super Bowl."

Chris Larabee just leaned back against the rear wall of the elevator and shook his head.

The elevator stopped with a ding announcing its arrival and the doors slid open.

The three men stepped out, intent on returning to the bull pen when the receptionist called out.

"Agent Wilmington? You have a visitor," she said, waving her hand vaguely in Joanna's direction.

Joanna stood, looking up at the three men. _Which one?_ She wondered.

Buck stepped toward her, squinting down at the girl. "You lookin' for me, Kid?" He asked.

Kid! Joanna's brown eyes flashed for a moment and then she took in a lot of air and let it out. "Are you Buck Wilmington?"

"That's me," Buck replied.

"I'm Joanna. Joanna Davis," she replied. She licked her suddenly dry lips. "I'm your daughter."

Buck's eyes went wide for a moment. He swallowed, "My daughter?"

Chris stepped forward and looked at the girl. Maybe Buck didn't see it but he saw the resemblance immediately. But Chris did. The girl was the spitting image of a girl they'd known in high school – Tamara Diaz.

~*~

Chris and Buck led Joanna into Team Seven's conference room while JD returned to the bull pen.

"Josiah, Vin – you'll never guess who that girl is!" JD cried, gesturing toward the conference room.

"Who would that be, John?" Josiah asked.

"Buck's daughter – or so she says."

"Buck's daughter?" Vin asked, turning to look at the threesome again.

"Our Mr. Wilmington has a daughter?" Ezra asked, moving toward his desk.

"That's what JD said," Vin replied.

"That girl in the conference room with Chris and Buck. She was waiting on us when we got back from lunch. Told Buck she was his daughter," JD reported.

Nathan dropped into his seat across from Josiah. He smiled, "Should have known that was going to happen one day."

~*~

Chris opened the conference room door and ushered the pair inside.

"Who are you?" Joanna asked, looking at Chris.

"I'm an old friend of Buck's. My name is Chris Larabee," Chris said. "Have a seat. Can I get you something? A Coke maybe?"

"No. Thank you," she said, taking a seat.

"What are you doing here?" Buck asked Joanna after they were seated around the conference table.

"I went to Adoption Search Angels," the brunette replied. "They helped me find you."

Buck scratched his head, "Maybe I need to ask – why are you here?"

Joanna blinked at him. "Mr. and Mrs. Davis – my parents – were killed in a car accident last month."

"I'm sorry –" Buck began.

"I was going through some boxes in their house and found my adoption papers. They never told me I was adopted." She sniffed, blinking back tears. Chris silently slid a box of tissues to the girl. She pulled a tissue and blew her nose.

Buck looked at Chris and then his eyes moved around the room. _Damn, the poor kid._

"I'm real sorry," Buck said.

"I wanted to meet my parents. To know my history. That's why I'm here," she said, swallowing. "I wasn't able to track down my birth mother. Where is she?"

Buck looked uncomfortable, "I – um – I don't know."

Tears welled up in Joanna's eyes again.

Buck raised his hands, "Don't worry none – we'll find her."

~*~

"Tamara Diaz," Buck muttered, sitting in Chris' office about a half hour later. "I haven't seen her since –" his voice dropped off.

"Since Joanna was born," Chris added.

"Yeah," Buck replied, staring off at nothing. "What the hell am I gonna do, Chris?"

"Do you know how to contact Tamara?" Chris asked.

The ladies man seemed to come around. "No. We sort of – things fell apart between us after I went off to college. I heard she became a writer. Other than that – but I suppose it won't be hard to find her – we are Federal agents, right?"

Chris nodded. "Buck – I know this is a shock – but be careful."

"What do you mean?" Buck asked confused.

"Get a DNA test done – make sure Joanna is your daughter. Nathan ought to be able to help you set that up. I'll see if I have any luck locating Tamara for you."

"I need to be the one to call her, Chris."

"I know – I'll get you a number or an address. Whatever I can."

Buck nodded silently.

"What are you doing to do with her – Joanna – tonight?" Chris asked. "Get her a motel room?"

"Hell no, Chris – she's sixteen. I'll take her to my place. She can crash there until we figure out what we're going to do."

"JD's gonna love that," Chris replied. "Just be sure she doesn't clean the place out."

Buck looked at Chris with disbelief in his eyes. "You don't think she's my kid, do you?"

"Buck, I don't know and frankly neither do you – for sure anyway. I mean – yes, she looks like Tamara but –" He frowned. "The child you had with Tamara was a daughter and yes, she was put up for adoption. But right now you have no absolute proof this is your daughter. Just – take it slow, okay?"

Buck nodded, his eyes moving to gaze out the windows of Chris' office.

~*~

"Welcome to the CDC," JD said brightly opening the door to the two-bedroom loft that he shared with Buck.

"CDC?" Joanna asked, stepping carefully through the entryway.

"Center for Disease Control?" JD replied. "Sort of a joke."

"Just what do you have in here?" Joanna asked cautiously.

"Nothing. JD's just pulling your leg," Buck replied, setting Joanna's suitcase down. "You can stay in my room and I'll crash on the couch for the time being."

"I don't want to put you out or anything, Mr. Wilmington," Joanna said.

"You're not putting me out, Joanna," Buck said. "Let me show you upstairs. We'll get you settled and then we'll figure out something for dinner." He picked up her suitcase and headed toward the stairs.

"Okay." Joanna nodded and followed Buck up the stairs. "Can you tell me about my mother?"

Buck nearly stumbled on the steps. He caught himself and muttered, "Yeah, yeah. We'll get to that."

TBC . . . .


End file.
